Waltz
by Sedri
Summary: At a fancy ball, Edmund and Peter complain about their brother-in-law to a bewildered guest. Silly fluff. Susan/Caspian. Written for weekly drabble challenge #9 and #10 at the susancaspian livejournal community.


Title: Waltz  
Author: Sedri  
Rating: G / K  
Summary: At a fancy ball, Edmund and Peter complain about their brother-in-law to a bewildered guest. Silly fluff. Susan/Caspian. Written for weekly drabble challenge #9 and #10 at the susancaspian livejournal community.

Disclaimer: Narnia and all its inhabitants belong to C.S. Lewis. The movieverse also belongs in part to Andrew Adamson. The guest of honour, however, is mine.

Revised and reposted April 2012.

* * *

**Waltz  
**by Sedri

_One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three…_

The ballroom was bright and colourful, an ever-moving swirl of embroidered gowns and well-timed steps. The musicians were enjoying themselves, playing song after song from Archenland, Telmar, and even a few Calormen pieces between the favoured Narnian scores. Glasses clinked, people chatted, and scores of candles lit the white stone walls, all of which were draped with rich fabrics, and the sweet scent of flowers floated through the air.

It was a delightful party. On the polished floor, somewhere in the middle of the crowd, King Caspian and Queen Susan danced as if there was no tomorrow. They were a handsome couple; she beautiful and elegant in a dress of green and gold, he tall and proud in blue and white. Steady and smiling, they laughed as they went. Queen and King, husband and wife, Pevensie and Telmarine – it hardly mattered, for while they danced they were happy, and nothing could touch them.

Off to one side, sitting in ornate chairs at a grand table with delicious foods, two figures watched with unconcealed revulsion. They were, perhaps, a little farther into their cups than was wise for Narnian kings, but even when sober, neither Edmund nor Peter would deny the sincerity of their words.

"It's _appalling_," said Peter, shaking his head as he took another long sip. "Take my advice, Your Majesty," he said to the guest of honour seated beside him; "don't ever fall into this trap. Ever. Fight tooth and nail if you must, but don't let yourself turn out like _that_."

The guest looked confused, and turned to Edmund, who was on his other side. The Just King agreed with his brother: "_We_ were never like that, and we ruled just fine for fifteen years. You don't need it – it's just the way everyone _thinks_ royals ought to be brought up."

Their companion made a small noise of innocent confusion, taking another sip of his own drink (one much less potent than the kings' wine) and turned back to the dancers with a look of quiet admiration. Peter and Edmund glanced at each other over his head, sharing a look that clearly said, _We've lost this one, haven't we?_

Lucy approached from behind them, the usual whirlwind of bubbling energy. She plopped down heavily into the seat beside Edmund, snatching his glass and swallowing a large gulp of liquid. She put it down and made a face. "That's really too dry, you know."

"We like it," said Edmund, taking it back. "Having fun, Lu?"

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed, kicking her slippers off under long tablecloth. "I was dancing with Trumpkin earlier, and before that all three of Lady Mardra's sons, and a faun – can't remember his name – and Caspian asked me to save him from Lady Henningfest while Su was in the powder room, and I'm _hoping_," she added with a smile at their guest, "that His Majesty might consent to dance with me later?"

Peter and Edmund both looked at the person sitting between them, crestfallen to see the look of delight on his face. Lucy winked at him while the brothers groaned. "Well, that's it," sighed Peter. "It's over."

"Indeed," said Edmund; "we've failed. Brother, I toast to our efforts."

"Hear, hear!" Peter reached out to clink their glasses.

Lucy looked puzzled, and rested her cheek in her palm as she asked, "What are you talking about?"

"You've doomed him," Edmund declared. "Now, no matter what we do, His Majesty here is going to turn out like Caspian."

With some concern, but mostly amused, Lucy poured herself some water and asked, "What's wrong with that? You like Caspian. You performed their _wedding_, Ed."

"Glad to," he replied, swaying a little as he reached out to clap the shoulder of their confused guest. "'e's a good man, good king, good husband…"

"…But?"

Edmund turned to her, pained. "His _dancing_, Lu. Look at him! He's so… _graceful_."

The word was spat out with such utter disgust that for a moment, Lucy just blinked in surprise. Then she burst out laughing. "_Graceful_?" she exclaimed, putting down her glass before the water could spill. "You're complaining because he's _graceful_? What's wrong with that?"

Her brothers shifted uncomfortably, oblivious to the rapt fascination of their guest. "It's… not right, Lu," said Peter. "Grace is a girl's thing. He's supposed to be _king_. Kings have to be strong and stern and–"

"You're _jealous_!" exclaimed Lucy, grinning with delight. "Neither of you dance half that well!"

The brothers hesitated just long enough to drain any sense of truth from their words. "No, we're not," said Peter.

"We weren't brought up in court," Edmund defended. "We didn't even have our first dance lesson until after our coronation. He's been learning it all his life."

"You _are_ jealous," said Lucy, now more surprised than teasing. "You really are."

Neither king responded, staring stubbornly out at the dance floor where a long waltz had just finished. Susan and Caspian were holding the last pose, smiling and oblivious as usual to everyone around them. Lucy shook her head and waved to her sister, urging them to skip the next dance. Judging by their red cheeks and short breaths, a drink was surely needed. The guest of honour saw them too, and with a huge grin he slid from his chair and hurried around the table, approaching the king and queen at nearly a run.

Susan leaned down and swept the child into her arms. "Sulian!" she laughed, settling the small boy on her hip as she kissed his forehead. "Have you been good for your uncles?"

Sulian nodded enthusiastically, a big grin on his face as he wrapped both arms around his mother's neck and spoke quietly into her ear. Caspian, beside them, grinned and ruffled his son's dark hair.

"The question is, have _they_ been behaving for _you_?" he asked, sitting down at the table and gladly taking the little prince onto his lap. Sulian, ever a shy boy, sucked on his fingers and cuddled up to his father, watching Peter and Edmund, who were eyeing him carefully. Caspian followed the gaze and gently pulled the boy's hand from his mouth. "Have they been good?"

Sipping her wine, Susan watched with amusement as Sulian shook his head vigorously, and both kings groaned, utterly betrayed.

"Prince Sulian of Narnia," said Peter solemnly, "You are _just_ like your father."

The father in question raised an eyebrow. "We shall take that as a compliment, won't we?" he said, looking at Sulian.

"Oh, you should," said Lucy with a teasing smile. "My brothers are just jealous that you two can actually dance."

Now Caspian looked surprised. "You cannot…? But I've seen you."

"Two left feet," muttered Edmund. "Each."

Caspian glanced at his wife, who shook her head. "They can, but badly. They never really tried to learn," she explained. "It was a wonderful excuse for escaping the ladies who hoped to become their wives."

"You would _think_," Lucy went on, taking great pleasure in this, "that they would at least try for our sakes, but nooooo…" She shook her head. "Brothers."

"In that case," said Caspian, matching his son's cheeky grin, "it's high time for proper instruction. Don't you think so?" he asked Sulian. The prince nodded quickly.

"Oh, _no_," said Peter. "No. We are _not_ going to have a dance lesson in the middle of a party. Forget it, Caspian."

"Oh, come on, Peter," cried Lucy, retrieving her slippers. "It'll be fun! Come on, get up."

The High King refused.

Susan had a more direct approach. Suppressing a smile, she simply grabbed them both by the ears. Peter jerked away and looked at her in horror. "Not you too!"

"You stepped on my toes during _every_ _dance _at my wedding," she reminded him, trying to look stern. "You're going."

"Su…"

"Up!"

Groaning, Peter turned around to plead with his only ally. Edmund looked resigned. "Brother," he said solemnly, "we are outnumbered."

"Betrayed by our own kin," Peter lamented, eyes fixed on a giggling Sulian. "I never thought I would see the day."

"Come on then," urged Lucy, tugging on his arm. "Peter!"

Peter sighed and stood, followed shortly by Edmund, and they trudged towards the floor as though facing the hangman's noose. Susan rolled her eyes and followed, pausing to speak with the conductor while Caspian stayed in his seat, tickling his son just to watch him laugh.

Below, Lucy paused in her prodding of Edmund to turn back and shout, "Happy birthday, Sulian!"

The four-year-old beamed, waving to his aunt as the queens took their positions. The music began.

_One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three…_


End file.
